


Dyslexia

by cornflakes_canvas



Series: Just Say The Word [2]
Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: Blood, Conflict, Derogatory Language, Dyslexia, Fights, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence, One Shot, One Shot Collection, One Word Prompts, Stuttering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 12:39:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12864708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornflakes_canvas/pseuds/cornflakes_canvas
Summary: Kyle had stuttered for as long as he could remember.





	Dyslexia

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, comments are always much appreciated (especially if they include prompts!) <3

Kyle had stuttered for as long as he could remember.

 

It didn't bother him very much when he was with friends, didn't worry him at all within the family circle; instead it was an aspect of his everyday life that he simply accepted and took in his stride, choosing not to waste an unreasonable amount of time and energy on complaining about it, when complaints wouldn't change a thing.

He didn't think it was a problem until his parents told him it was.

 

They took Kyle to see a speech therapist – a very gracious, middle-aged woman in an office plastered with colourful charts and bursting at the seams with plastic toys and stuffed animals – and after months of therapy, the stutter appeared to be less pronounced.

It never vanished altogether, but as he got older, it was primarily prominent in situations of conflict, during school presentations and, unfortunately, when he was talking to someone he fancied.

 

Then he met Dan, and fuck, did he fancy him. He stuttered terribly the first time he spoke to the older boy, dumbstruck in the face of those big beautiful eyes reflecting the city lights they were hanging on to.

 

Kyle knew that the other boy noticed, but Dan didn't say anything. Instead, he made absolutely sure to always let him finish his train of thought without interrupting; and perhaps it was because Kyle wasn't used to it, or maybe his loved up brain was looking for yet another reason to adore the crazy-haired boy with the vast collection of knit jumpers, but to him it was the most amazing thing anyone had ever done for him.

 

A few months into their friendship, they found themselves huddled up to one another at someone's shitty party, chatting in low voices about everything there seemed to be anything to say about within the limited perception of their slightly intoxicated minds. They had found their way onto a tiny, deserted balcony, in a desperate attempt to escape the biting volume of the poorly selected music that seemed to increase exponentially with the number of drinks consumed by the host, when they were interrupted by one ridiculously drunk stranger, who stumbled onto the small space and leaned heavily on the railing next to Dan, immediately throwing an arm around the boy's shoulders and squeezing him into his own side.

 

“And who are you? Haven't seen you around,” he slurred and Kyle shivered slightly when Dan flinched away from the man's face, only inches away from his own.

Even though Dan tried to ignore the other's advances and shoved him away more than once, the guy didn't seem to get the hint, still attempting to shuffle closer to Dan, until Kyle snapped and pushed himself off the cold metal railing, holding on to it with one hand for stability and staring at the man, whose hands were trailing far too low on his friend's back for Kyle's comfort.

 

“Come- come on, man. Yo- you can clearly see that he's n- not interested. Just give it- giv- give it a rest, mate?”

 

The man stared at him for a split second before he doubled over with laughter, stopping Kyle dead in his tracks.

 

Dan turned towards the stranger slightly, mirroring Kyle's pose.

“That was brilliant,” the drunkard huffed between laughs, pretending to wipe away tears of joy.

 

Kyle clenched his jaw and straightened his back.

“You- you think it- it's funny? To h- harass people like that?”

 

The guy sobered up suddenly and stepped towards Kyle with a threatening stance, but soon started giggling again.

“You need to learn how to speak before talking to me, you little dyslexic fuck.”

 

And yeah, that wasn't okay. At all. But before he could jump into an explanation of what exactly dyslexia was, Kyle registered a blurry motion in front of him and without the slightest warning and in a completely out-of-character move, Dan punched the man square in the fucking face. Or rather, awkwardly connected his fist with the other's nose. It lacked the momentum of a successful punch, but then again, making the guy's nose bleed was probably more than Dan had hoped for, judging by the surprised look on his face.

 

The man cradled his nose and groaned deeply, and when other party-goers started crowding onto the balcony to see what was going on, Kyle took Dan's hand in his own and fled the scene, struggling to comprehend what the fuck had just happened.

 

They stumbled outside and into a tiny, darkened park in front of the large residential building, falling down heavily on a bench underneath a dim street light.

They were both breathless and Kyle kept staring at Dan incredulously, still unable to wrap his head around the unexpected violent outburst from the gentle boy.

 

“Fuck- fucking hell, Dan,” he huffed and Dan looked at him before his pale face broke into a wide smile and he started laughing quietly.

 

“He deserved it,” Dan justified, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.

 

“H- he deserved it,” Kyle agreed and kept looking at Dan in silent wonder, registering the exact moment the adrenaline wore off and the pain kicked in as Dan suddenly appeared to be on the verge of tears, looking down on his bruised knuckles helplessly.

 

Kyle hugged him tightly, running a reassuring hand up and down his arm, and Dan breathed deeply, his face pressed into Kyle's shoulder.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, calming their nerves by focusing on each other's breathing and on the warmth they shared, before Kyle untangled himself from Dan's embrace and called his brother to come and pick them up.

 

Dan stayed at Kyle's house that night and after a bit of chastising and hushed shouting, his mum doted on Dan, like she always did, placed an ice pack on his swelling hand, brewed him a perfectly comforting cup of tea, and made the boys outrageously tasty sandwiches at two o'clock in the morning, while cold rays of moonlight slowly fumbled their way across the kitchen tiles.

 

And, lying on an uncomfortable spare mattress on the floor next to his bed that was occupied by the gentlest, yet most astoundingly courageous boy that Kyle had ever met – feeling like, surely, this must all be some strange fever dream – he whispered an almost inaudible _“You alright?”_

Dan stayed silent and merely stretched his lightly bandaged hand out towards the younger boy, who took it in his own gingerly, fingertips all but ghosting over each other's skin in a promise for all that was yet to come.

 


End file.
